


Chocolate Milk

by emwebb17



Series: Tumblr Fics [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Jensen, Cockles, Dom/sub Undertones, Food Sex, M/M, Spanking, Top Misha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-26
Updated: 2013-06-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 05:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emwebb17/pseuds/emwebb17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, there's ice cubes, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, spanking, and it's only a 1000 words...you do the math.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolate Milk

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr after accidentallycockles asked decisivelychallenged if she liked her Cockles with ice cubes and spanking or whipped cream and chocolate syrup. And I was all like, "Or?"

Jensen sucked in a sharp breath as the biting cold on his nipple felt almost as good as Misha’s teeth.  Jensen’s eyes slid over to look at Misha’s face.  He was smiling to himself as he delicately circled the tip of the ice cube around and around the hard, peaked nub.  Misha’s eyes flicked to Jensen and he grinned as he raised the ice to his mouth and licked the dripping point.  Jensen squirmed.

“Ah ah!” Misha said mildly.  “Hold still, now.”

Jensen took in a shuddering breath and forced his body to remain as still as he possibly could while Misha traced a cold, wet line down his body.  The man leaned over and circled Jensen’s nipple with his tongue.  He could feel it, and he couldn’t feel it—it was an odd sensation that had him clenching his teeth and curling his toes.  As the flesh warmed up, he began to feel the heat of Misha’s mouth, the light nip of teeth, and then—

Jensen yelped and tensed as the forgotten ice cube pressed against his hole.

Misha lifted his head and leveled a long, hard look on Jensen.  “You’re not being very good tonight,” he said as he used his thumb to prod the ice cube against his entrance again and again.

Jensen bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut.  And stopped moving.  A groan was ripped out of his throat as the ice cube was pushed inside him—but he didn’t move.  He exhaled harshly as he felt cold liquid spread inside him.  It felt good, but not nearly so good as the warm spend of Misha’s orgasm claiming him inside and out.

“Good boy,” Misha praised him and Jensen breathed a little easier.

He should have known better.

There was a pop, then the sound of something being shaken in an aerosol can.  Jensen opened his eyes in just enough time to see Misha kneeling over him with a can of whipped cream at crotch level.  Then a white mess sprayed all over him.  Jensen blinked and felt some of the whipped cream cling to his eyelashes.  He licked his lips and glared at his puerile lover.

“You’re an idiot,” he said.

Misha laughed, and then smacked his thigh.  “Hey!  You don’t have permission to talk.  You wanted whipped cream, I got you whipped cream.  Now, for what I want.”

Misha tossed the can aside and popped the lid on a bottle of chocolate syrup.  He allowed a drop to fall on Jensen’s stomach and leaned over to suck it off.  Jensen grunted at the ravenous pull of Misha’s mouth and precome pulsed out of his throbbing dick.  He closed his eyes and silently hoped Misha would let him move one hand so he run his fingers through his hair.

“Now,” Misha said, “I want to suck each of these spots…”  He dotted Jensen’s throat, chest, stomach, and hips with the syrup.  “But first…I wanna suck this.”

Misha tossed away the syrup bottle and slid back so that he could kiss the engorged head of Jensen’s cock.  He swept his tongue across the top, swallowing the salty evidence of Jensen’s arousal.

“Now, Jensen, you better make sure not to let any of that chocolate get on the sheets.”

Jensen’s eyes flew open in a panic.  Was he serious…?!

Jensen moaned as Misha went down on him and only the feel of the syrup in the hollow of his throat moving kept him from bucking his hips up into that perfect wet heat.  Misha new every trick in the book when it came to sucking cock and it felt like he was using all of them at once.  He didn’t just suck, he swallowed; he used tongue and just the slightest graze of teeth; he used one hand to tug gently on his balls while the other rubbed just behind them and occasionally ran down to his clenching hole to circle the puckered ring.

Jensen realized this must be what dying felt like because he was seeing a white tunnel with a beautiful light at the end of it…and then it all went away.  Jensen gasped and almost demanded to know why the fuck Misha had stopped—he’d literally been one flick of a tongue away from coming—but remembered himself just in time.  He couldn’t stop himself from letting out a frustrated groan though.

“Hey, hey, don’t act like you’re the one with the problem here.  Look what you did to my sheets.”

“Wha—?” Jensen moaned dazedly.  He looked where Misha was pointing.  A thin line of chocolate trailed from around his hip bone, down his skin, to a small almost unnoticeable drop on the dark colored sheets.

“Jensen,” Misha sighed, “you didn’t do what you were told.”

Jensen pulled in a desperate breath that almost sounded like a sob.  “Misha, no…”

Misha pulled him up and turned him over with a strength that always surprised him no matter how many times the smaller man manhandled him.  Jensen was braced on his forearms, his torso arched over Misha’s thigh, and his knees planted between Misha’s legs.

He didn’t even have time to anticipate the first sharp slap.  He just cried out as the pain on his ass cheek traveled like it was hardwired to the throbbing pleasure in his cock.  Misha alternated cheeks and placement and strength of each blow and Jensen buried his face in the sheets and did his best to remember to breathe around his crying moans.  The heat from his reddened buttocks was palpable and Jensen turned his head and opened one eye.  Misha met his gaze and leaned over to lay a gentle kiss on the abused flesh of his ass.  Jensen sucked in a breath and held it.

Then Misha got off his heels and laid into Jensen relentlessly—his hand landing each time right in between his cheeks, cracking across his hole and Jensen screamed as they came faster and faster and harder—and then his body locked up as every muscle drew tight to try to contain the ecstasy spreading over every nerve in his body.

When Jensen came back to himself, he was being cradled by Misha who stroked his hair lovingly and reverently.  Jensen realized he’d come just from the spanking.  He glanced beside him and saw the wet spot on the sheets.

“I’m sorry, Mish, sorry—I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” Misha soothed him and kissed his forehead.  “You’re perfect, baby.  You’re so good to me.”

Jensen shook his head minutely.

“You don’t believe me?  Let me show you how proud I am of you.  I’ll reward you.  You want some chocolate milk, baby?”

Jensen was conflictingly amused and aroused by the dirty, playful look Misha gave him.

“Yeah, Mish…I’d love that.”

He shifted to lay flat on his back when Misha moved to get on his knees.  He straddled Jensen’s chest and inched forward until his thick, full cock hovered over his face.  Jensen rubbed Misha’s thighs and licked his lips greedily as he watched the other man’s hand pull and massage his cock.  The head would disappear under a sweep of fingers and then reappear with a bitten off moan as Misha worked himself.  It took only a handful more strokes before Misha came with a groan and Jensen lifted his head to wrap his lips around the tip, drinking in the thick fluid that melted on his tongue.

Jensen lowered his head back to the mattress, holding his prize in his mouth.  Misha shuffled back and swiped a hand through the smeared chocolate on Jensen’s body and then licked it off.  He bent down and met Jensen’s lips, their tongues swirling together, mixing the chocolate and semen in a strange sweet, salty, and bitter kiss.  Misha pulled back and looked Jensen in the eyes before giving him a little peck on the lips.

“Good boy.”


End file.
